


"JUST LIKE ROMEO AND JULIET"

by blackillya



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: AU, Challenge Response, M/M, Pre-Slash, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 05:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13780695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackillya/pseuds/blackillya
Summary: Illya is remembering a beloved enemy





	"JUST LIKE ROMEO AND JULIET"

**Author's Note:**

> INSPIRATION: Photo #1 Possibly posted on MFU_SCRAPEBOOK
> 
> It’s all Shakespeare’s fault
> 
> A/N: I couldn’t resist as this is a story I wrote some rime ago and saved for such an opportunity

Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:  
For never was a story of more woe  
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Illya Nickovich Kuryakin read these words of this his favorite of The Bard’s works, closed the book, and stared at his finished work with a mixture of genuine pride and longing. Pride because he used his natural talent for being creative, longing because of the dark-haired man who graced the upper right-hand corner of the painting.

Illya sighed. Napoleon Solo was his name , Chief Enforcement Agent for the United Network for Law and Enforcement....the enemy....a Montague. He, himself, was the son of Nikolai ‘Ivan The Terrible’ Kuryakin, deadliest of THRUSH assassins....a Capulet.

“Good example” he muttered to his empty room. “Our meeting was some what similar......

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He had first become aware that he was not alone in the garden when a voice whispered in his ear. “Forgive my intrusion, but, please believe, I would never harm you.”

He did not need to turn to recognize the owner of that voice. “What would you have of me, Man from UNCLE?”, he replied in kind.

“There is an interesting conversation I think we need to hear.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I saw three of your fellow THRUSH follow you as you left the party. Fortunately, you lost them.”

“Where are they?”

“Underneath the balcony. Will you trust me?”

He inhaled. Solo smelled of Old Spice. Confidence and sensuality seemed to add to the scent. He found the mixture intoxicating. “If I did not trust you, Napoleon Solo, you would be dead by now”, he replied.

“I am aware of that fact and honored by your trust. Follow me.”

He obeyed and, minutes later, found himself in a clump of trees that afforded an excellent view of the balcony. Solo was directly behind him.

“Listen”, Solo whispered.

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Borya Zolnerowich, Sergi Sokoloff and Artyom Polzin huddled together beneath the balcony.

“What is this plan of yours, Borya?”, Sergi Sokoloff demanded.

Borya scowled at his companions. “It should be obvious to even fools like you.”

“Whatever it is, I’m with you”, Artyom Polzin declared.

Sergi sneered. “I’d expect nothing less of a rookie. Go on, Borya.”

“Did either one of you happen to notice how much Napoleon Solo admired our beautiful Illya?”

Sergi and Artyom nodded. “So?”, Sergi challenged.

“So, I know how to dishonor Solo.”

Sergi and Artyom looked at their companion as if he had lost his mind.

“Are you insane!?”, Artyom challenged.

“Keep your voice down!”, Borya hissed; “and, no, I am not insane..”

“Yes, you are! Has it occurred to you who you’re dealing with?”

“Yes, Artyom, I know exactly who I’m dealing with. I am dealing with a man who has the reputation of chasing anything in a skirt or pants. I also know that Solo’s room is next to Illya’s.”

Artyom chuckled. “Those rooms connect.”

Sergi sniggered. “Well, well! Listen to the rookie! For once he is right!”

“Leave the boy alone, Sergi. At least he made the connection, as it were. The plan - We will wait for Illya to leave. I am certain that Solo won’t be far behind. Solo will find a complimentary bottle the finest wine waiting in his room. What he does not know is that it is laced with a powerful stimulant. Once the drug has taken effect, we place him in our Illya’s bed. He will be unable to help himself.”

“Will we get to stay and watch?”, asked Artyom.

The eagerness in the younger man‘s voice did not go unnoticed by Borya. “Sergi and I will. You will be on your way to inform Ivan Kuryakin and Alexander Waverly of the situation.

By the time they arrive we will be seen busting down the door to rescue our fair Illya from the big bad UNCLE agent. I am certain Illya will be most grateful to the heroes that saved him.”

“And you will have had your fun”, Artyom hissed.

“No worries, dear boy. You will be the first to receive Illya’s ‘gratitude’.”, Borya promised.

“Da! Remember the drug will still be in his system.” Sergi added.

“We are agreed then?”, asked Borya.

His companions nodded.

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Illya smiled as he remembered the mixture of horror and anger on the faces of the three when they discovered Alexander Waverly in Solo’s room and Nikolai Kuryakin in his. Their plans crushed as defended Solo’s presence by reciting, word for word, their entire conversation to Waverly and his father.

To add further humiliation to the three, his father had offered Napoleon the option as to how justice should be served.

Napoleon had replied that all of THRUSH should know they disobeyed Number One’s cardinal rule - ‘There will be no attack on an enemy unless I order it’.

The word would spread to other agencies - for or against the law. Their reputations were ruined.

His father, and Waverly, had sanctioned it.

Then, to his - and Solo’s - surprise they were left alone.

Realizing there were no need for words, and acknowledging that despite the mutual attraction between them they would never pursue these feelings, they embraced and shared a soul searing kiss that left no doubts they would live in each others memories.

Then Napoleon Solo was gone.

 

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A insistent ringing of his telephone interrupted his thoughts. Picking up the receiver, he simply replied. “Kuryakin.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my son.”

“And to you father. What are you up do?”

“Up to? Can’t I call to say a Valentine gift is on its’ way up to you?”

Illya chuckled. “And does this ‘gift’ have a name?”, he teased.

“I am certain you will be pleased.”

As if on queue there came a knock on his door......


End file.
